


under the light of a thousand stars

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 17-Year-Old Harry, 18-Year-Old Louis, Artist Louis, Bottom Louis, Closure, Crushes, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, High School, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Very Sorry About This, M/M, Pining, Requited Love, Sad Ending, Smut, Stargazing, Top Harry, You might cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Harry</i>. The whirlwind with curls and dimples and gangly limbs who just <i>had</i> to come crashing into his perfectly fine, lonely life and make it both infinitesimally better and even more excruciating.</p><p>or, the loosely based Bridge to Terabithia au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote most of this in a day because the idea had been sitting with me for a while. I hope I've done it justice, and I am sorry for any pain this may or may not cause.

Louis is kind of a loner.

He isn’t _alone_ , can’t possibly be, at least not in a small house filled to the brim with little girls, his parents, _and_ their dog, too. Louis doesn’t even have his own bedroom - he shares the attic room with the twins, an old, thin sheet the only divider between his quiet sanctuary and the warzone of crayons and Barbie dolls that the girls like to wreak havoc in. 

But, yeah, he’s lonely. He’s seventeen and in high school and he should be having the time of his life, but in reality, he doesn’t have _that_ many friends and to top it all off, he lives in the middle of nowhere and he thinks that even if he _did_ have people to invite round, they wouldn’t want to make the hour long bus journey, anyway. Louis spends most of his free time with his pencils and his sketchpad, idly doodling fantasy creatures and robots and aliens from faraway planets. He’s a runner, too, and a good one at that. Every morning he wakes up early and runs laps around the expanse of meadow that sits behind his parents’ farm, training up for the school competition that he, without fail, wins every time. The collection of trophies that prove his talent stand proudly on the cabinet in the living room, his name engraved in at least twenty bronze statues that he’s accumulated over the years. Louis is lucky that his hobbies are also his forte, and he likes to think that his drawings as well as his ability to outrun everyone at Lark Creek High are what make him so special. His sisters look up to him, and Jay is no doubt the proudest mother ever, and Louis likes to make the people he loves happy. Sometimes, he wishes he had more people to make happy. 

The morning air is warm when he opens the screen door, stepping out onto the wooden porch and crouching down to tie the laces of his favourite trainers. If the chirping of the birds and the first orange and yellow hues of sunrise are anything to go by, it’s barely six, but Louis is feeling enthusiastic about the day. Today is the last day of school before summer break, and the last ever running competition he’ll take part in before he’s officially in the sixth form.

He starts off down the dirt track, the steady thump of his footsteps echoing in his ears as a surge of adrenaline washes over him. Running is so cathartic to Louis, and so he runs and runs until his legs feel like they’ll give out and his upper lip tastes salty with sweat when he runs his tongue over it. He doesn’t realise just how far he’s gone until he stops at the edge of the forest. He checks his watch and curses under his breath when the time reads 7:12AM and a wave of panic sets in, because his mum needs to leave for work _right about now_ and he should be at home getting his sisters ready for school. 

Needless to say, when he bursts through the front door in record time, heaving for air as he kicks off his shoes, Jay is far from impressed. She stands in the kitchen, arms folded across her chest, and gives Louis _that_ look, the one she saves for when he’s really in trouble, and Louis knows he’s screwed.

“Sorry?” He guesses tentatively, edging further into the house and towards the table where a spread of breakfast foods are arranged. Jay is the greatest, Louis thinks, and he truly has no idea how she does it. Louis’ stepdad works pretty much all the time, so when Jay isn’t on shift at the local hospital, she’s busy caring for five kids (duties which include feeding, bathing, etc.) and looking after the house. As the eldest (and only) son, Louis has to pick up a lot of the work, which he should have done this morning, but of course he got carried away and is now facing the consequences.

“You bloody should be, Louis. I’m going to be late now.” Jay says sternly, but there is still a softness behind her words - that’s just the kind of person she is. Louis mutters another apology and Jay looks as if she wants to say something, but then Phoebe and Daisy start arguing over who gets the last slice of toast and so she sends Louis off in their direction, waving goodbye with a smug look on her face as she leaves for work.

The kitchen is loud and messy by the time the girls are done with breakfast, and they rush upstairs to change into their uniforms while Louis cleans up. He himself barely has time to get ready for school once the kitchen is tidy, but finally, all the Tomlinson siblings make it out of the house and onto the bus. As usual, Lottie finds her friends at the back of the bus, Felicite stays up front with the twins, and Louis finds an empty window seat and stares at the blurring landscape for the entire journey.

* * *

It’s lunch break, which means Louis has made it through three classes already, and is that much closer to being free of all school obligations for ten whole weeks. It’s also time for the running competition, and he’s waiting by the start line, searching the crowd for his sisters. He spots the eldest two right away, waving frantically at him with big grins plastered on their faces. He waves back, feeling very optimistic about the race, and he’s itching to just _run_ already.

The PE teacher is stood at the side of the field, wielding a whistle and a piece of paper. Louis smirks down at his feet thinking about how it’s _his_ name at the top of that paper, _his_ name in pride of place on the leaderboard. He’s gonna win this time, too.

Quickly and cautiously, he scopes out the competition. He’s stood between Liam and Niall, two athletic kids who seem loud and obnoxious but friendly nonetheless, and further down the line he can see Zayn, Nick, and… _oh_. He’s never seen this boy before, a lanky, curly haired lad who looks very new and very out of place. Louis cranes his neck to get a better look, but can’t really see much past the ten or so teenaged boys lined between him and the curly kid. He decides to stop wondering who this mysterious boy is or why the hell he’s competing, instead choosing to focus on the finish line and reaching it. Without warning, the whistle blows, its shrill ring startling the runners into taking off, and they begin hurtling themselves down the track to the background noise of yelling and cheering from their friends and supporters. Of course, Louis is in first place, so far ahead of the others that he reckons he could jog the rest of the way and _still_ win. He doesn't though, but instead keeps pounding his feet against the mud, running until his face is red and stinging from the wind biting against it, until the line of chalk which marks the end of the race is mere meters away from him.

Victory is almost his when suddenly he is overtaken, and he falls to his knees in dismay when the new kid, of _all_ people, is crowned winner. Louis’ life is over.


	2. Chapter 2

The ride home is...quiet. Louis hangs his head in shame and distances himself from his sisters so as not to embarrass them (even though they insisted that it doesn’t really matter, that he has enough trophies already). He’s never been more grateful for the fact that the summer holidays start now, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to show his face at school ever again. 

You see, in the grand scheme of things, winning a stupid race doesn’t mean much. But Louis doesn’t really have a lot of things that are just his, and that race was _his_. He thinks that maybe he’ll stick to running as a pastime, now. 

The bus drops them off at the top of their street, and the five of them walk home in relative silence. Louis kicks at dust and stones, mulling over how unsuccessful the day was, and he can’t stop thinking about the boy with the curls and the dimples. The boy who won.

They reach their front door and Louis ushers his siblings inside, and much to his surprise, Dan is sat at the table reading the paper. His stepdad must have got off work early, and the girls are pleased to see him. Louis gives him a smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes, and tells Dan that he’s going to the creek. Dan nods in response, attention quickly switching back to the twins who are desperate to tell their stepdad about their day, and Louis takes that as his cue to leave.

It’s still hot outside; the air is humid and there are mosquitoes _everywhere_. For a second, Louis thinks about running down to the creek, but he isn’t really in the mood for it, instead deciding to take his time and enjoy the walk. He’s barely made it out of the gate when he crashes into someone and sends whatever they were carrying in their hands flying.

“ _Shit_ , I’m sorry,” Louis jumps to help retrieve the various items that are now strewn across the floor - cans, paintbrushes, string, to name a few. “I really need to…”

Louis snaps his mouth shut. Coincidentally, by a twist of fate, the universe deciding it really must hate him, _whatever_ , the person he just so happened to have bumped into is the kid who took his title of reigning running champion not even four hours ago.

“Thanks.” The tall lad says nonchalantly, taking his stuff out of Louis’ hands. 

Louis blinks. The other boy probably has no idea who he is. Louis isn’t memorable, after all. _Play nice, Tommo_ , he thinks to himself, because as much as he’d really like to bash the kid’s face in for beating him today, he also could use a new friend. “Uh, yeah. S’okay. I need to watch where I’m going.”

The boy laughs. “I’m Harry. Just moved here, actually.”

“Louis,” he replies, and holds out a hand for the other boy. Who says he can’t be polite?

They shake hands, and Louis offers Harry one of his most brilliant smiles. 

“Are you redecorating?” Louis tried his hand at starting a conversation, nodding towards the bits and bobs in Harry’s arms. Harry had said that he’s new to town, so Louis assumes that the boy and his family have moved into the fixer upper opposite Louis’ house. It used to belong to a sweet old lady named Ms Berry, but she died not long ago and the house has been vacant ever since. 

“Huh?” Harry frowns, green eyes flicking between Louis’ and the floor. He seems to click on eventually though, as he rattles the can of paint in his hand and replies “Oh, yeah, my parents are working on the house, but I found a treehouse in the forest and thought it’d be cool to paint it and stuff.” 

Louis _knows_ that treehouse. He goes there quite a lot actually, especially if he’s had an argument with his mum or he needs some space from the girls. It’s a small, rickety thing that probably isn’t safe whatsoever, but he likes it. Usually, the mere thought of someone else claiming that treehouse as their own would unsettle Louis, but he finds himself itching to ask Harry if they can share it. He’s never had a secret den that he can share with his mates (not that Harry is his friend, at least not yet), but the possibility excites him.

“Yeah, it could use some colour. I took some blankets up there with me once bu-”

“It’s your treehouse?” Harry interrupts. He looks genuinely concerned that he’s potentially called dibs on something that belongs to someone else. Louis is endeared, and he laughs softly, shaking his head.

“Nah, not mine, I don’t know who built it if I’m honest. I go up there sometimes, though. We could share it?” Louis hopes he isn’t being too forward, but he likes Harry and has even forgotten that this kid outrun him today.

Harry beams. “That sounds good, Louis.”

 _Score_ , Louis thinks, mentally high fiving himself for managing to successfully make a (sort of) friend. 

“C’mon,” Harry starts, turning around and setting off in the direction of the forest. “I mean… if you don’t have to be home, or whatever.”

Louis shrugs. “I was heading down there, anyway. Had a shit day at school and needed to clear my head. Might as well take a friend, I guess.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow and hums, intrigued. “Fair play. And I, as your new _friend_ , will gladly listen to just how shitty your day has been.”

They laugh in unison as they begin to walk down the dirt track, and Louis feels warm and fuzzy, unable to decipher if it’s because of the hot summer air or the feeling settling in his tummy as a result of making friends with Harry.

* * *

Three cans of blue and red paint later, Louis and Harry have most definitely overexerted themselves. Louis’ white shirt is stained and his mum will probably kill him, and he says as much to Harry as they both flop down on a pile of blankets in the treehouse. 

“Is she nice? Your mum?” Harry asks.

Louis shuffles and sits up, looking back towards Harry. “She’s the best.”

Harry smiles fondly, and they just stare at each other for a while, and Louis thinks that he’s definitely got a friend in the other boy. 

“When I bumped into you I was mad at first, considering you beat me in the race today. I’ve never lost that before, y’know.” Louis laments, playfully sticking his tongue out at Harry because, honestly? He’s over it.

“M’sorry.”

Louis shifts closer to Harry. “It’s alright. Anyway, I’m glad I didn’t brush you off just because of that. We’re, um, we’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“We’re friends.” Harry says, and then he jumps up so fast he knocks the empty cans of paint over. He quickly shimmies down the ladder and yells up to Louis. “Race you back? I might even let you win this time.”

“Ha ha, very funny!” Louis bellows, feigning offense, but then he too is clambering out of the treehouse, and the boys propel themselves home as the sun dips low behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

From then on, Louis and Harry are inseparable. The first few weeks of summer break fly by, most days spent lazing around in the treehouse, racing each other across the meadow, and sharing ice creams.

On the 23rd day of the school holidays, they find a rope swing. It hangs from an oak tree above the edge of the creek, worn out from past use. It burns Louis’ hands when he jumps onto it and soars across the water, but he throws his head back and closes his eyes and pretends he’s flying. 

They’ve been playing by the rope for hours now, taking it in turns to swing back and forth between the banks. Louis thinks he’s never had so much fun in his life.

It’s been left unsaid, but he’s pretty sure Harry is his best friend. They spend every day together, hanging out either at each other’s houses (Louis helped paint Harry’s bedroom and Harry sometimes babysits the girls with Louis) or in the meadow. He knows everything about Harry - he knows how he takes his tea, knows that he was born a month after Louis, that he talks in his sleep, and how he likes it when someone runs a hand through his curls.

Also, Louis may or may not be harbouring a small (read: massive) crush on the other lad.

He realises this first when he’s watching Harry fly across the creek on the swing, his face catching the light in a way that captivates him beautifully. Louis doesn’t really know much about poetry (after all, his field is art), but he reckons he could write sonnet after sonnet on how _pretty_ Harry is. 

When they exhaust themselves and retreat to the treehouse, sprawling across the blankets, it’s almost dark - the moon is veiled behind the last remains of sunlight and already clusters of stars are coming into view. Harry had once told Louis that he loves astrology, and they’d spent an afternoon mulling over an encyclopedia, learning the names of the constellations.

“That one there, that’s the Big Dipper.” Harry stretches an arm out and points towards the night sky. Louis’ gazes follows the direction of his finger, and he squints to get a better view. Sure enough, he can make out the shape of it. Harry continues finding recognisable patterns in the stars, and Louis watches, enthralled by the other boy. 

He doesn’t realise he’s staring until Harry tells him to stop.

Louis prods Harry’s side playfully. “I wasn’t staring, you narcissist.”

“That’s an awfully big word for such a little person.”

Louis actually _gasps_ at that and crawls on top of Harry, immediately attacking him with grabby hands in an attempt to tickle him to death. Harry catches Louis’ wrists to stop the boy and he does stop, panting to catch his breath while Harry calms himself down from laughing too hard. Time seems to stand still as Louis looks down at Harry in awe of the pink in his cheeks and how his curls are slightly matted against his forehead. Green eyes bore into blue and, _yeah_ , Louis is definitely in love with his best friend.

Harry laughs nervously, letting go of Louis’ wrists to shove him off. Without warning, he straightens up and remarks that it’s late and they should probably go home, so they do, and they pretend like nothing ever happened.

* * *

Louis can’t sleep. A quick glance at the clock on his makeshift bedside table tells him that it’s barely past midnight and he sighs into nothingness as he shuffles beneath the bedsheets. He can hear the soft snores of his sisters from across the room - usually, it would comfort him, but tonight he’s irritated. He kicks his feet off the bed and reaches under the frame to pull out his sketchpad and pencils. 

As he flicks through the pages, he realises that it’s been _weeks_ since he last drew anything. He then realises that the reason for that is because of Harry and how much time he’s been spending with the lad. _Harry_. The whirlwind with curls and dimples and gangly limbs who just _had_ to come crashing into his perfectly fine, lonely life and make it both infinitesimally better and even more excruciating. He could have coped with spending his summer friendless. Instead, he’s doomed to spending it pining after his (probably) straight best friend who probably (definitely) doesn't like him back. 

Louis groans inwardly with frustration when he puts pencil to paper and inspiration seems to have run dry. 

He shouldn’t text Harry. He _shouldn’t_. But he does anyway.

[12:24AM] **srry to bother u but i cant sleep**

[12:26AM] _Me neither. Think it’s the heat._

Yeah, totally, sure. Harry can’t sleep because of the weather and Louis can’t sleep because he’s a fucking idiot.

[12:27AM] **hmm probs**

[12:28AM] _did you want something?_

[12:30AM] **oh no no srry just wanted to talk idk**

[12:41AM] **harry?? did u fall asleep loser**

[12:42AM] _Come outside. X_

Louis practically leaps out of bed and scurries over to the window, mindful of his sleeping siblings but giddy nonetheless. Sure enough, Harry is stood out in his front yard in his boxers and an oversized tshirt and bunny slippers. He looks endearingly soft and sleepy and Louis wants to hug him.

He creeps down the stairs and slips out of the house. In the back of his mind he makes a mental note that this is the first time he’s ever snuck out, and though a part of him feels guilty, his entire body is thrumming with anticipation because Harry is waiting for him not even five feet away. He isn’t thinking clearly when he pads across the grass and throws himself at the other boy.

Harry is startled but he hugs Louis back, winding his arms around his waist and pulling him in close. “Did you miss me?” He quips.

Louis huffs a laugh against Harry’s neck. “Yeah.” He whispers honestly.

Harry gently pries Louis away from him, but before the other lad can protest Harry is taking Louis’ hand in his and tugging him towards the meadow.

“Where to, Miss?” Louis says, his wide grin hurting his cheeks and he really hopes that Harry gets the [reference.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jnJTZ3adkQ)

Harry tightens his grip on Louis’ hand and pulls him against his side. He dips his head low and in the shell of Louis’ ear, breathes “To the stars.”

 _Fuck_ , Louis thinks, _he’s a keeper._

They finally stop when they find a fallen tree trunk that doubles up as a bench, hidden behind a brush of wildflowers. They plunk down on it, Harry tactically positioning his bum so his bare thighs don’t scratch on the rough bark, Louis taking advantage of the fact that he’s wearing sweatpants to straddle the trunk.

“Lou,” Harry starts after a beat. “Can I tell you something?”

Louis swallows. “Sure, anything.”

“Okay...well, promise not to laugh or like, fall out with me.”

Louis chuckles, but when he meets Harry’s eyes he can see seriousness cloaked behind green. He matches his tone. “I promise, Harry.”

Harry scratches the back of his head nervously and Louis is pretty sure his entire life flashes before his eyes. What if Louis has been making Harry uncomfortable? Does he have personal space issues? Can he tell that his best friend is gone on him?

“When we were looking at the stars earlier, and you were laid above me, all I could think when I looked up at you was how much I wanted to kiss you.” 

Out of all the things Louis was bracing himself to hear, _that_ was definitely not one of them. 

“I don’t want you to freak out because it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I had to tell you, though.”

Louis blinks, completely floored. Harry actually likes him back and he doesn’t quite know what to do with that information. His silence must be deafening to Harry, because the other boy shifts uncomfortably and looks down at his feet.

“Harry…” Louis trails off, desperately looking for the right words to say. 

“It’s okay, Lou. I don’t expect you to say anything. It’s only fair that I told you, though, ‘cos it’s been on my mind for a while now. S’why I couldn’t sleep, actually.”

“Me too.” Louis blurts out suddenly, and he doesn’t know how that came across but he thinks he can see the tension release from Harry’s shoulders. “I mean. I couldn’t sleep because I’ve been thinking the same.”

“You have?” Harry breathes, his eyes glimmering with hope. Louis nods frantically, nudging Harry’s hands with his out of sheer lack of knowledge of what else to do or how to behave. He’s never had a crush before, let alone a _requited_ crush. He feels a bit like he’s stumbling in the dark. But, Harry said he felt the same. It can’t be all that bad.

The two lads intertwine their fingers and it’s more intimate than ever before. Louis hears Harry’s breath hitch in his throat and he moves forward, inching closer and closer until his lips are pressed against Harry’s. Harry kisses like he talks, slow and sweet, and Louis reckons he could kiss Harry for the rest of his life. It’s a little uncoordinated because neither of them have done this before, but at the same time, it’s absolutely perfect and exactly how Louis had imagined it would be.

They break for air, and Louis sighs happily when Harry runs his thumb over his cheek. 

“That was nice.” Harry comments, unable to keep the grin off his face.

“I think nice is an understatement, Harold.” 

Harry simply laughs and leans in for another gentle kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

“You’re making this a big deal. Why are you making this a big deal? You’ve met my family before.”

Harry watches from Louis’ bed as the other boy rummages through his closet in pursuit of his nicest button down shirt. He knows it’s in there somewhere, but he hasn’t worn it in months, hasn’t had the occasion for it. In approximately two hours, however, he will be having dinner at Harry’s house, and he wants to make a good impression. Harry is right, of course, he’s met Anne and Robin and Gemma loads of times over the course of the summer, but that had been as Harry’s friend. Now, he will formally be attending as Harry’s _boyfriend_ , and that’s a pretty big deal in his book.

“It’s not like they don’t already like you. They _know_ we’re dating. Christ, not even last week our mums spent like, two hours on the phone talking about how happy they are that we finally realised we should be together or summat.”

Louis scoffs at that. “I know.” 

Harry pouts. “C’mere.” He gestures to the space next to him, and after some deliberation, Louis gives up on trying to find the shirt and crawls beside Harry, fitting himself under Harry’s arm. He mouths at his jaw, peppering kisses across the skin there, and Harry runs his hand up Louis’ thigh.

“I can’t believe I get to be your boyfriend.” Louis confesses, because he really can’t. They’ve officially been dating for two weeks, now. It’s been a lot of touches and kisses and learning the other inside out. It’s been making out on the couch in Louis’ living room and getting caught by Lottie who snitched on them and earned them a ban from anywhere but Louis’ half of the bedroom. It’s been experimentally grinding against each other in the treehouse, getting breathless and needy and wanting _moremoremore_. It’s been the best summer of Louis’ life, and an absolute pleasure sharing it with Harry.

Harry hums happily, turning slightly so he can kiss Louis’ forehead. 

(They don’t fall asleep, and they don’t get woken up by the twins jumping on them, and they definitely aren’t late to dinner.)

* * *

It’s the Sunday before school starts up, and a gloomy air seems to linger over Louis and Harry for the whole day. In the morning, they’d made one last trip down to the creek, taking turns to swing across the water, relishing the freedom that they desperately want to cling on to. Now, they’re sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching reality show reruns at Harry’s house. 

“Do you think we’ll be in the same classes?” Louis wonders, wiggling his feet in Harry’s lap.

“I hope so. How am I supposed to be apart from you for a whole entire day otherwise?” Harry jokes, but Louis’ heart sinks a little, because he hadn’t even thought of that. They’ve been attached at the hip since the start of summer break, barely spending time away from each other, and for many people the distance would be welcome but Louis feels sad just thinking about not having Harry by his side 24/7. 

“Shut up.” Louis retorts, and Harry can sense that something is up because he quickly pulls Louis onto his lap and runs his hand up and down his spine in an attempt to comfort him. He kisses the corner of his mouth softly.

“Hey, even if we aren’t in the same classes, we still have lunch time and the evenings to hang out. We can even ride the bus together, too!” Louis wishes he shared Harry’s enthusiasm. The truth is, he's spent 17 years of his life being lonely, and he isn’t ready to go back to that. He’s afraid of losing Harry.

“I know. I’m just scared that if I let you go for even a little while, you’ll disappear forever.”

“Lou,” Harry lifts Louis’ chin up with the tips of his fingers so their eyes meet. “You’ve got me, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

They meet at Louis’ gate the following morning. Jay stands on the porch and waves her children off, and the girls go ahead in the direction of the bus stop. There’s a spring in Harry’s step as he and Louis fall behind, walking hand in hand. 

“You seem excited.” Louis notes, his lips curving in a fond smile.

“I am. I like school. Education liberates the mind, you see.” 

Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes. Harry continues on, talking about science or maths or something boring that Louis really has no interest in, but he listens anyway because he loves how passionate Harry is. Louis likes art and music class, and though he is bright he doesn’t enjoy the academic side of learning, but Harry is the opposite. It’s funny, really, how they’re like two sides of the same coin. Different, but the same. Two halves of a whole.

They board the bus together, paying no attention to the glares and snarky comments they inevitably receive (after all, they _are_ an openly gay couple, and that’s not something you see around here). For the most part, their schoolmates are welcoming, and to Louis’ surprise, the popular trio invite them to sit at the back with them. Harry goes eagerly, and Louis lets it sink in that Liam, Niall and Zayn actually want to hang out with him. He assumes that it’s Harry’s bubbly personality which draws them in, but still, he makes an effort to be friendly with the lads, because they seem decent and he wants to start the year off right.

Three hours later, the five of them sit at a table in the canteen, discussing the ins and outs of their timetables over their packed lunches. 

“I told you, Lou! We’re in pretty much every class together!” Harry beams, leaning over to smack a wet kiss on Louis’ cheek. He flushes red under the watchful gaze of their new friends, but the other boys barely notice, instead conversing about what they did over summer and which girls in the year above they fancy.

Louis is indescribably happy. He looks over at Harry with so much love that he thinks it might break out of his chest and spill onto the floor. The playful laughs of the lads around him remind him that he has friends now, and so far they all get on so well and it feels like the five of them are just meant to be. _Yeah_ , he thinks, _it’s gonna be a good year._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's smut (consensual _and_ legal) in this chapter after the first break, so skip ahead if that makes you uncomfortable.

The days get shorter and Louis has to dig out his sweaters. The first leaves of autumn are falling from the trees in the meadow, and the creek is rising as a result of showers of rain that never seem to cease. Because of this, Louis and Harry’s treehouse haven becomes more and more difficult to reach. The earth is muddy and their usual shortcut across the bank via the rope swing is threatened by the swell of the water. 

Still, they make for the treehouse as often as possible, but usually, they spend most of their time after school at each other’s homes. 

It’s Friday evening, and Louis hasn’t heard from Harry since they parted ways when the bus dropped them off. It’s been almost three hours, and despite the onslaught of text messages he has sent Harry, his boyfriend hasn’t replied. In all fairness, Louis could traipse over to Harry’s and ask his mum to let him in so he can figure out what’s keeping him. He would feel like he’s intruding, though, so instead he sits inside with nothing but his thoughts and his sketchpad.

Hours pass, even though it feels like minutes, and Louis climbs into bed feeling both restless and uneasy. Harry had showed no signs of being anything other than himself at school, so why the sudden ignorance?

Louis is teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when his phone buzzes under his pillow.

[10:38PM] _hi lou. I’m sorry I didn’t answer earlier, was busy. X_

Louis frowns at the screen. His fingers hover over the keys for a few minutes until he finally taps out a suitable response.

[10:41PM] **kk is everything alright?**

[10:42PM] _yeah just lost track of time_

Louis wants to cry and he doesn't know why. 

[10:43PM] **oh ok… well i missed u**

[10:45PM] _You too :)_

Louis’ throat burns with unshed tears and he throws his phone to the floor. Cursing under his breath, he buries himself in his blankets and squeezes his eyes shut.

* * *

When Louis wakes up, it’s to the feel of soft lips pressing against his cheek, and fingers roaming the span of his chest. He opens his eyes slowly, vision blurred with sleep, but when he rubs them with the back of his hands they focus on Harry hovering above him.

“Good morning, baby.”

The tears that threatened to spill last night finally do. He starts sobbing uncontrollably, reaching out for Harry, dying to touch him and feel his body against his own. Harry holds him until he stops shaking.

“I’m so sorry for upsetting you, I didn’t mean to. I was planning a surprise and I didn’t want you to find out.” Harry explains, stroking Louis’ hair reassuringly. Louis is a mess and he knows it, but it’s not his fault that he’s so dependent on Harry. 

“I’m sorry for overreacting.” Louis says between heaving breaths.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

They lay together for what feels like a lifetime. Luckily, it’s the weekend, and they have no responsibilities, so they take their time relearning the curves of each other’s bodies, revelling in the presence of one another. 

When they finally drag themselves out of the warmth of Louis’ single bed, it’s noon. They pilfer leftover croissants from the kitchen table and head over to Harry’s, where they play video games for hours on end, chatting mindlessly about the week, doing nothing more than spending time together in the way they know best.

When the sun begins to set, Harry leads the way to the meadow, promising Louis that his surprise is waiting for him at the treehouse. Louis is eager with anticipation, curious as to what exactly Harry has planned and if it was really worth the stress of the night before.

It definitely, definitely was.

Harry has outdone himself. The treehouse is adorned in fairy lights, candles lay scattered across the floor, and he’s even managed to drag an old mattress up there. It’s a perfect little set up for stargazing, which he assumes had been Harry’s motive considering the telescope which sits in the corner beside a stack of astrology books.

“This has always been our little place so I figured it would be nice to have our first date here.” Harry shrugs, earning a fond look from Louis who stands on his tip toes to kiss the tip of Harry’s nose. 

“I love it. Thank you.” Louis falls down onto the mattress, a familiar warmth settling in his tummy. Harry joins him and they sit side by side, pointing out the stars like they had done all those weeks ago. It’s nice, peaceful, and a gentle reminder that they’re okay. 

Before long, the books have been precariously forgotten about, and Louis is sat on Harry’s hips, sucking hickeys into his neck. They’ve done this before - Louis loves marking Harry up, loves that it makes him undeniably _his_. Harry growls when Louis licks a stripe up the bare skin of his jaw and experimentally ruts up against the other boy, and Louis makes the loveliest sound that Harry does it again, and again, until Louis is tugging at Harry’s zipper and yanking his jeans off. _This_ is new, but they both follow their instincts, completely caught up in the moment, and Harry trusts Louis, so he simply nods in consent, eyes wide and lust blown, when Louis mouths at his cock and whispers, “I wanna suck you off.”

Louis’ technique is sloppy and he has absolutely no idea if he’s doing this right, but the noises he’s eliciting from Harry encourage him further. He only stops when Harry tells him to, and he lets Harry roll them over and work on shucking his clothes off, too. Soon, they’re both naked and pressed against each other, their racing hearts beating in synchronisation. Harry kisses down the length of Louis’ body, pausing only to briefly tongue the head of Louis’ cock before nipping at the inside of his thighs with his teeth. Louis throws his head back and lets out a guttural moan. “Please, Harry, do something.”

Harry fumbles for something tucked in between the boards of the treehouse and pulls out a small bottle of lube. Louis wants to ask where the hell he got that and why the hell he has it stashed there, but all thoughts go out the window when a slick finger pushes inside him.

“ _Fuck!_ ” He exclaims, the feeling foreign but so, _so_ good, and he lifts his hips up to accommodate Harry. Harry keeps up the pace, leaning over to kiss Louis, hot and open mouthed, as he slides another finger past Louis’ rim. 

“Is that okay?” He whispers against the crook of Louis’ neck. 

Louis chokes a _yes_ and tugs at Harry’s hair. He’s pretty sure he’s going to die if he doesn’t come soon, his hard dick trapped between their bodies. 

“Are you gonna fuck me, Harry?” He urges, and he feels Harry twitch against his thigh. The other boy mewls and nods, curling his fingers _just right_ so that he hits Louis’ prostate and Louis can’t take it anymore, is desperate to feel Harry, all of him.

“ _Now,_ ” he breathes, gasping at the loss of Harry’s fingers as he pulls them out and wipes them on the blanket. Before he can whine in protest, Harry is rolling a condom onto his dick and pressing forward into Louis. The stretch is slightly uncomfortable but not painful, and Louis almost cries when Harry bottoms out and begins moving against him.

“You feel amazing, baby. You’re so good for me.” Harry praises, and Louis purrs in response, wrapping his arms around Harry to pull him in closer, closer, but never close enough. He wants everything Harry has to offer him and then some.

They don’t last long, either of them, and when Louis comes Harry is quick to follow. They lie sated and fucked out, naked against each other, the cool night air slowing the pace of their heartbeats, and it feels like absolutely the right moment for Louis to tell Harry what he’s been wanting to for weeks.

“I love you.”

Harry captures Louis’ lips in a warm kiss. “I love you, too.”

* * *

Everything in Louis’ life falls into place. Harry seamlessly fits into his school routine, much to his delight, so nothing really changes in that aspect. They still ride the bus together, they sit together in class, they hang out with the other lads at lunch, and they spend their evenings in Harry’s room, doing homework and other extracurricular activities.

Louis turns 18 on Christmas Eve. Harry’s family come round for dinner, and although it’s difficult trying to cram so many people into the Tomlinson household, Jay is welcoming and puts on a wonderful meal. Gemma brings gifts for Lottie and Fizzy, and the twins demand a game of hide and seek with her after dinner, which she begrudgingly goes along with. It all feels so right, having the boy he loves by his side, and their families getting along. This time last year, he would have been spending his birthday alone, but this year, he has everything he could ask for. 

Harry can barely wait to give Louis his present. He claims it’s a joint birthday and Christmas gift, which Louis can’t complain about, and they rush up to Louis’ room hand in hand for the big reveal. The bag which Harry had brought round is relatively large and made of brown paper with small, golden stars decorating it, and Louis smiles fondly when he realises that Harry must have thought of all the nights they’ve spent stargazing together when he purchased it. Harry sits cross legged on Louis’ bed and gives him permission to open the bag, so he does, delving his hand in to retrieve the first gift.  


He pulls off the paper (also gold and starry), his mouth falling open when a set of charcoal pencils are unveiled. He knows how expensive they are because he’s been saving up for months, and he feels so grateful that Harry had even remembered how badly he wanted them, let alone bought them for him.

He throws his arms around Harry’s neck in thanks, kissing his cheek as he pulls away and starts on the next present.

“I was sort of nervous about this one.” Harry comments when Louis pries open a tiny box, catching sight of a silver chain. He carefully lifts the necklace out of the box and studies the charm dangling from it. It’s a heart pendant with a tiny inscription on it that reads 'H&L'.

It takes Louis' breath away, and he feels tears prickling behind his eyes. “Harry, it’s so beautiful.” 

“I know we’ve only been dating for four months but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Louis. I want you to be able to keep a part of my love with you all the time.”

Louis is at a loss for words, overwhelmed by both Harry’s romantic gesture and the ache in his chest over how in love with this boy he truly is. 

Harry fastens the chain at the nape of Louis’ neck, dropping a kiss there. “Happy birthday.”


	6. Chapter 6

Louis’ world comes crashing down exactly three weeks later.

It’s a wintry Tuesday morning, and he’s climbing onto the school bus cold and alone. He sniffles and bundles his scarf tighter around his neck, scoping the bus out for his friends, and he spots Liam at the back, flagging him down. 

“Where’s Harry?” Zayn questions as soon as Louis flops down onto the leather cushion. 

“He didn't answer my call. He’s sick, probably. Think I'm coming down with summat, actually.”

Niall scoffs. “I’ll bloody bet you are, considering half the time you have your tongue down his throat.”

That earns him a chastising look from Liam, who smiles apologetically at Louis. 

The rest of the journey is the same as every other day, but Louis can’t quite shake the notion that something is wrong, and not just because Harry isn’t by his side.

The day drags, even more so than usual, and Louis has sent Harry enough texts to last a lifetime, receiving no replies for the entire time he’s at school. He trudges round the corridors with a heavy heart, and eats his lunch in silence, subconsciously fiddling with the pendant that sits on his chest from time to time.

At the end of the day, when he’s finally dropped off back at the end of his street, he feels unnervingly nauseous. Everything is… quiet. The air is still and the birds aren’t chirping - even his little sisters are unusually reserved.

When Louis swings open the door and steps over the threshold into his home, he isn’t prepared for the weight of his mother’s arms around him and her pained sobs against his ear.

“It’s Harry.” Her voice wavers, and that’s all Louis needs to know. He hugs her tighter and lets her rock him as she continues. “Anne found him earlier. The creek… it was too high, too fast. He fell in. I’m so sorry, Louis.”

The last thing Louis remembers is the sound of his own loud cry as his legs give way and he falls to the floor.

* * *

Louis is dreaming. He’s dreaming of brilliant green and chocolate curls and dimples the size of craters. 

He swears he can feel Harry’s lips ghosting over his before he jerks up in a sweat, panting for air.

It takes all of two seconds for him to realise that Harry is dead before Louis is wailing, thrashing his body against the bed, crying and screaming until his mum is rushing in and cradling him against her chest.

* * *

He finds the nice button down shirt, the one he and Harry had been searching for months ago, on the morning of Harry’s funeral. The taste in his mouth is bitter and metallic when he pulls it out of the closet, giving it the once over before hurling it across the room. 

He pulls on tailored black trousers and a dark shirt, and even getting dressed feels like a chore nowadays. 

_Existing_ feels like a chore now Harry is gone. If Louis could compare the loss of Harry to anything, he’d compare it to the dying embers of the sun which burn out and burn out until the entire universe suffocates. 

Facing Anne is difficult. She greets him wordlessly and crushes him in a hug. Gemma holds his hand throughout the service, and they weep on each other’s shoulders. 

He doesn’t see the Styles’ for another week after that. As usual, Louis is holed up in his room, fingers toying with the necklace Harry gave him, when Anne pops her head around the door, her eyes searching his for permission to enter. He swallows and nods slowly.

“Hi, Louis. How are you?”

Louis doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. _He_ should be the one comforting Anne, not the other way around. She’s just lost a child, for Christ’s sake. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t answer. Anne creeps further into the room and perches on the end of Louis’ bed. “Yeah.” She says sadly.

“I don’t want to keep you long, Louis. There’s something you should know. About…” She trails off, obviously trying to compose herself. Louis can’t bring himself to look into her eyes because they’re the same shade of green as Harry’s were and it’s still too raw and everything reminds Louis of his dead boyfriend already. “About Harry.”

“He took the day off school, said he had something urgent to do. I pried, obviously, I wasn’t going to just let my baby skip school for no good reason.” Anne reminisces painfully. It’s the first time she’s relayed what happened out loud, and Louis doesn’t know if he wants to hear it. He’s been doing a good job of pretending that none of this is real, that he’s trapped in a very long nightmare and one day, he’ll wake up with Harry beside him again. Hearing Anne’s words will only cement the truth. “He told me it was your date night. He wanted to set up the treehouse all nice to surprise you.”

Louis heart drops and he feels sick. 

“I said he could go, of _course_ I did. He loved you so much, Louis. He wanted it to be special for you.”

Louis doesn’t bother to hide the sob that escapes his lips. “It’s my fault.”

Anne hurriedly shakes her head and reaches out for Louis. “No, _no_. Please don’t think that. Harry’s death isn’t on anyone. It was an accident.” She rubs circles on his back, trying her best to soothe him. “He died with a heart full of love.”

* * *

Louis has never run this fast in his life. The landscape around him dissipates into nothingness as he charges out of the front gate and towards the meadow, running with such ferocity that the balls of his feet hurt and he’s sure to have blisters. He keeps going, and going, even when tears are blurring his vision and the overgrown brush catches on his arm and nicks at his skin. He stops only when he reaches the creek.

The sketchpad he’s carrying suddenly starts to feel as if it’s burning a hole in his hands. He drops it to the ground and scrambles on his knees, opening it and tearing out pages one by one. He rips up his drawings, screams at the top of his lungs and he just hurts so much, _so much_ , and he throws the torn up pieces into the stream and watches as they’re carried away fast. 

He can’t be here anymore.


	7. Epilogue

Louis is nervous.

In fact, he hasn’t been this nervous in years.

He stands in his tiny apartment in London, examining himself in the full length mirror, seconds away from changing his outfit for the fifth time that night when his phone rings and jolts him back to reality. He fishes it out of his pocket and rolls his eyes as he accepts the call.

“Zayn.”

“Louis. Where are you?”

Louis searches for an excuse but comes up with nothing. “I don’t want to do this.” He admits honestly.

He hears Zayn’s exasperated sigh from across the line, and then the shuffle of feet and a few hushed words between his friend and who he assumes is the art curator. “The exhibition is up. You’ve seen it, Lou, you know how good it looks. All you have to do is make one little speech in front of a couple hundred people and then I promise you can go back doing whatever the hell it is you do when I’m not there.”

He appreciates Zayn’s bluntness. He knows he’s overreacting, because Zayn’s _right_ , Louis worked damn hard on his exhibition and he’s fucking proud of it. 

But tonight feels like a big step, for many reasons.

* * *

The lights are dimmed in the gallery, and Louis stands on a podium at the side of his curtained artwork, hands shaking and fidgeting with the pendant around his neck. He brings it up to his lips and kisses it chastely. 

All of a sudden the lights are blinding him, and the room full of people begin clapping and cheering when his drawing is unveiled. He gets himself together and searches the crowd for his family, and sure enough, in the front row sit Jay, Dan, his sisters, and Harry’s family, too. He smiles at them and they smile back, proud and eyes brimming with tears.

“Thank you!” He begins, turning his body to look at his piece hung up on the gallery wall. It’s big, the biggest project he’s ever worked on, and it’s beautiful. The canvas depicts a charcoal drawing of a boy with curls and a brilliant smile swinging on a rope beneath the stars. 

“This drawing means a lot to me. The subject of the piece is a boy I used to know many, many years ago. He was my first love. He really was beautiful, as I hope I’ve managed to capture in my depiction of him. I know he would’ve been proud of me, of _this_ , if he were here today.” Louis pauses, regaining composure because it’s _still_ hard to talk about Harry, even 16 years later. He casts a quick glance out towards the audience and sees Anne and his mother holding on to each other. Gemma gives him a thumbs up. “His name was Harry, which is what I titled this piece. He taught me fun and adventure, loving with an open heart, and to always embrace the present. Harry will stay with me for as long as I live, but I wanted his legacy to live on through more than just my love for him. He’s always in my heart, and hopefully yours, too, because of this drawing.”

The crowd erupts in applause, and when he steps off the podium and into the arms of his family, he feels light and airy and completely at ease for the first time since Harry passed away.

With the weight of Harry’s pendant against his chest and his charcoal smile sketched timelessly on a canvas, Louis decides that he doesn’t want to run anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments are welcome, and you can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/tinycurves) as usual.


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